


"Damn, Ainsley, I Need A Drink!"

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 10:01:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19850830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: How anything so impossible, so unlikely to suceed could go so right, against all the odds, then go straight to hell, that was just one of the mysteries of the universe.  Like Casino glumly told Sergeant Major Gil Rawlins, after that third drink, "it's all a crap shoot, ya know?  One minute yer rolling all sevens, next it's snake eyes all the way, babe."  Well, the non-com had experienced a little of that in his own life, and really couldn't argue with the sentiment.Though why the safecracker and the others seemed to bear such resentment toward barnyard poultry as a result, that remained a mystery to the Sergeant Major.





	"Damn, Ainsley, I Need A Drink!"

**Author's Note:**

> See story 'Irresistible Temptations' for the team's first experience at Odellinn.

The mission - strictly classified. So much so Garrison had had to get a little stroppy with the Handler giving him what the man laughingly called the 'details'. Well, considering the information was skimpy to begin with, and the 'details' fogged in such vague terms as to make them unintelligible, he'd had no choice. Obviously what HQ thought he 'needed to know' differed quite a bit from what HE thought he needed to know. 

As he had grimly, if ever so politely, explained, "I know it's a nuisance, Major Ellis, but you see, if I don't know what I'm going in after, don't know what it looks like, some little identifying details, it just might make it a trifle difficult to be sure I'm picking up the right 'parcel', or as you put it 'the packet'. Surely you understand? Be a shame to get back and find out I picked up some guy's outline for the great Italian novel, you know." 

He really missed working with Richards; the Major might have his drawbacks, but he had experience and the sense to realize that 'Classified' didn't mean sending a team in without knowing what the damned objective was! Well, at least the team leader needed that information, surely!! But Richards wasn't here, was out in the field himself, it would seem, and Garrison was stuck with Major Ellis. He wasn't sure what qualifications Ellis had, but a firm grip on logic and rational thought were NOT among what Garrison felt was probably a very short list in the man's resume.

He'd kept a pleasant look on his face all the time, though the litany going through his head was plastered with such terms as 'idiot', 'asinine', 'totally clue-less' and those were, of course, the ones for which there actually were words, not just that deep, bitter urge to pop the guy in the face, grab the file and read it for himself. 

Somehow, anymore, when his own experience failed him, or, more likely, his frustration threatened to leak out, he resorted to his new stock-in-trade, the con. That's when he would take his lead from the examples around him more and more - sometimes Actor's suave style of persuasion, or Casino's brusque, tough-guy demeanor. Sometimes it was the 'spit in your eye' style Meghada often utilized; sometimes, like now, it was the 'ultra-polite in the face of absurdity' more typical of Alex Ainsley. (He'd never master Chief's stoic impassivity, he was sure, and most of Goniff's repertoire of faces and attitudes were beyond him as well.)

Of course, even with those details being provided, the chances of them being able to pull this off were astronomically NOT in their favor, but together Garrison and his team had put together a plan, and swung into action. It gave Garrison a fierce sense of satisfaction, of pride in his men and what they could accomplish, when things started falling into place. 

"Just like ducks in a row!", he'd proclaimed to himself with a grin when that Italian Lothario had been so busy pursuing the lovely Angelina that he hadn't even noticed the men sitting next to them at the cafe table listening as the man spilled his guts trying to impress her enough to let him take her home. 

"Just like ducks in a row!" he'd murmured, shaking his head in wonder, when the Aide to the man in charge of that security detail developed a sudden case of the trots and surreptitiously abandoned his vital post for a quick run to the facilities.

"Just like ducks in a row . . . ." One duck after the other after the other. 

That is, until so many of those ducks were waddling sweetly into their places and that sense of satisfaction started unaccountably turning into what Gil Rawlins called a 'cauld grue', which, when described to the best of the non-com's ability, bore a stark resemblance to the 'goose walking over my grave' idiom. Oh, everything was still going according to plan, but somehow that feeling stuck with Garrison, and grew to envelop the others as well. Actually, that damned goose seemed to be clog dancing!

Even after he'd gotten his hands on that packet, opened it and realized that, yes, this WAS what they'd been sent after, that ominous feeling remained, and it was with only partial relief that they made their hasty exit. 

They left town slowly, cautiously, only picking up speed once they were well away, all the time with the feeling that that damned goose was riding on their bumper. 

"Wouldn't be so bad if 'e didn't keep laughing at us," Goniff complained, glancing uncomfortably back over his shoulder, and while it was more than a little fanciful, none of them could disagree with the sentiment. They'd heard it too.

They'd actually almost made it to the rendezvous point when the tire blew, sending the car screeching out of control and toppling over into the deep depression along the side of the road. They'd pulled themselves out, cursing, Chief a little more slowly than the others, requiring some assistance in the matter. Quickly making their way back up to the road, they'd stood for a moment on the verge, watching as the flames started licking at the sides of what had been their transport. 

"It blows, we're gonna have patrols running up our ass," Casino predicted, and no one disagreed.

Garrison took a fast look at his watch, frowned at the sky, and urged them onwards. "We still have time, just barely, if we double-time it. There's another exit set up, but this was listed as top priority, and the sooner we get it back the better. Come on."

Garrison in the lead, Casino helping Chief, Actor and Goniff ranging behind and to the side, revolvers at the ready, they hurried toward the landing spot.

The plane was circling for a landing when they got in sight, and they each breathed a sigh of relief. "Hurry, they're only on the ground for a few minutes before they have to take off again," Garrison was urging, when the sound of a jeep roaring toward them had their heads coming around at a jerk.

In the end, they'd had to separate. The plane was on the ground now, but starting to make a hurried take-off to avoid the gunfire, and they were too far away unless someone delayed the Italian troops piling out of that jeep. Chief was moving slow, still somewhat stunned from that fiery crash. Actor and Garrison, the only ones in officers' uniforms, AND, of course, the only ones speaking German and Italian and thus having a chance to con that patrol that had spotted them at just the wrong moment, had sized up the situation in a heartbeat. 

Grabbing the packet of information from his inside pocket, Garrison had thrust it at Casino. 

"Take it, you and Goniff; get to that plane and get this stuff back. We'll follow on the next exit. No, damn it! No arguments, move it, now!!!"

Taking one last desperate look at the three men they were leaving behind, Goniff and Casino took off at a low run for the plane, barely reaching it in time to be pulled aboard before it left the ground.

Garrison and Actor took a deep breath and after a few words, started to put in place the con to beat all cons. {"If this works, I'm going to think of some really spectacular way to thank Coura; it was that last story she told at the pub that made me think of this, I know!"} Garrison thought, as he hurriedly reminded Actor and Chief of the details of that Red Duchess story that proved that that ancient worthy had been a pretty damned good con artist herself. The girl had smirked at the end of the tale, "and the lesson is, if you don't like the way the players are laid out on the gameboard, change the labels on the players so they are to your advantage, not your detriment. It's often just a matter of peception, after all."

They took one last look at the plane, fired their revolvers as if trying to make one last ditch effort at stopping the men they'd supposedly been chasing, then turned to greet the newcomers roaring up in that jeep. 

It hadn't been quite as easy as planned, but the con worked, and soon the bodies were hidden off the road, one vehicle out of sight, and the three who'd stayed behind were headed for the second exit point, there to await their own pickup, twenty-four hours away.

***

Slamming themselves onto the benches along the side of the plane, strapping themselves in place as the plane dipped and pivoted, it had taken awhile to catch their breath, grasp the reality of what had just happened, but once it had, they'd taken a long look at each other, and started swearing til they ran out of breath. 

Now, having run out of appropriate words, they were both fretting, though handling it differently, of course. Casino was gruff and blustery, though in lower tones than usual. The crew had given him a few wary looks, but then decided ignoring him was the best route to take, other than warning him NOT to punch the side of the plane again - that it wasn't good for the plane OR his fist. 

Goniff was, by turns, hyperactive and then deeply withdrawn. First, unable to stop talking, or fidgeting, he even started to unbuckle the safety harness once to try pacing, til he got solidly yelled at by the crew trying to fly the wobbling plane through the turbulence. Then, he'd settled into a morose lump, just casting occasional gloomy looks over at Casino. 

Only after the turbulence died down did they even attempt to talk.

"Hey, Goniff. They'll be okay. There's no one any better at that kinda con than the Warden and Beautiful, you know that. They'll get out, and bring Chief along with them. They'll be on the next exit schedule. You'll see. Stop twisting around on that seat like it's a hot stove top or somethin," Casino offered. There was no 'dumb Limey' or any other such mocking term of addess that usually expressed his preferrably-left-unacknowledged affection. That alone was evidence of just how worried the safecracker really was.

"Yeah, I know, Casino," Goniff tried to smile, though it was a spectacularly unsuccessful attempt. He was fighting worry and airsickness, all at the same time, and not being particularly successful at either. Changing the subject, he tipped his head meaningfully at Casino's jacket pocket. 

"You still got everything, right? Gonna be 'ard enough explaining coming back without the Lieutenant and the others without showing up empty-'anded and all."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Casino assured his teammate, patting his jacket pocket. "Don't know how much good it's gonna do. You ever think they might not believe us, coming back alone like this? Maybe figure something's squirrely?" 

Maybe he was being unusually prescient, but more than likely, just being his own pessimistic self; of course, HE called it just being realistic, and in the future would use this little adventure to prove his point.

Goniff's eyes got huge, "ruddy 'ell, Casino! Don't say things like that! Bad enough the Lieutenant ordering us to make a break for it, come back alone just to get that back to HQ! Coo, if they don't take the proper notice, it's like we left them alone for nothing!!" 

The tone in the Englishman's voice was close to panic now, and Casino hurried to reassure him.

"Naw, was just thinking out loud; not even those desk jockeys up at HQ would be that dumb! Just habit, I guess; you know, like the Warden's always doing, trying to figure out the possibilities a couple, three steps ahead."

Goniff's face showed that, now that the idea had been presented, he wasn't going to be able to set it aside all that easily. 

"If they DON'T believe it, w'ere does that leave us? AND the Lieutenant and Chiefy and Actor?? Don't think they're gonna be all that 'appy, us showing up, just the two of us, with a bunch of papers they DON'T put much faith in. May even get to thinking about pulling that second exit, you know? That'd leave the Lieutenant and Chiefy and Actor in it up to their ears!"

Casino really wished Goniff hadn't said that; his own pessimism hadn't taken him that far, and that was something he really didn't want to think about. Yeah, the Warden was one hell of an improviser when the chips were down, and so was Actor, but even they had their limits!

They were each quiet then, each lost in their own thoughts. Somehow, when the co-pilot glanced back, he could tell those thoughts were not pleasant ones.

Unfortunately, Casino's pessimism was not misplaced. The Handler was NOT pleased with just the two of them showing up, was disinclined to believe them, or to take that packet of information as being legitimate. 

Goniff and Casino got a cold welcome, loudly spoken doubts about what happened to Garrison, though no one seemed too concerned about Actor and Chief, doubts about the veracity of the information. Goniff's protest of "why the ruddy 'ell would we 'ave bothered even coming back if it werent the real goods??!" to have a few reasons, none too flattering, including them being in the pay of the enemy, being tossed out as a likely explanation. 

Casino lost his temper, quite understandably, and took a swing at the sneering Adjutant standing alongside, the one who'd made that last unforgiveable comment, and Goniff added a blistering denouncement coached in almost unintelligible cant, but with the general idea not going over anyone's head. Well, that vicious snarl on his face and the accompanying hand gestures helped enlighten anyone dense enough not to have gotten the picture otherwise.

Naturally, they ended up in detention. The squawking and yelling, the loud curses, had drawn the attention of the MP's in the hall, and before long a bitterly protesting Casino and Goniff were being handcuffed and loaded into a vehicle headed for the confinement stockade a couple of blocks away. 

That action was viewed silently by some various individuals, including Private Jeffrey Ames and Joyce McClaine, assistant (and daughter) to Colonel A. J. McClaine. Those two had exchanged grim looks, and hastened to make the necessary inquiries and take remedial action.

In the transport, Casino grimly reassured the fuming Englishman, "well, at least they didn't say anything about pulling the exit, and anyhow, I figure it's probably too late for that. With them taking so long to see us, let us tell our story, if the Warden and the guys made that one, they're already in position. Hell, maybe have already headed home."

Goniff's eyes were fixed on Casino's brown ones. "That's a lot of 'if', Casino, but I 'ope to 'ell you're right."

It hurt both of them, not knowing if the con, whatever it had been, had worked; if their teammates had managed to get away and head for the second exit point in the first place, much less make it out. 

They didn't have a lot of choice in their own actions; those handcuffs were tightly in place, and with the guards right next to them, they couldn't fiddle the locks like they normally would have. For now - at least for now - they had to sit back and wait.

The second exit had gone like clockwork, and the three men, weary and footsore, had breathed a deep sigh of relief. Home now. Well, first HQ and the inevitable debriefing, THEN home. Home, food, a stiff drink, then sleep. Soon, they each promised themselves, sending a tired smile to the others. Soon.

Somehow, that damned goose just wasn't finished with them. They'd gotten to HQ, been taken for debriefing, all fine and dandy. That is, until Garrison had urgently inquired about the two men he'd sent ahead, the information he had entrusted to them. He was told that "you really need to discuss that with Major Ellis and Colonel Keefer. They were informed immediately upon your arrival and are waiting for you."

He was at least clean, having been escorted to a shower, given a fresh uniform. His men, at least Actor and Chief, the two still with him, hadn't been given that opportunity, but THEY weren't being summoned into the presence of the disapproving trio of senior officers. Of course, he hadn't known of their mindset til he walked in, and had been stunned by the information he'd been given.

"So, you just ignored them? Just took the information and - what? Just threw it to one side? AND threw them in the stockade? Didn't you hear what they were telling you? I know they both speak English; what about you??! Or is it only UNDERSTANDING English that you have a problem with??!"

That brought one hand flat against the long desk, the slap loud in the stunned silence his diatribe had produced.

"Lieutenant Garrison! Some respect, if you please! We took a good look at the information in that so-called 'packet'. You cannot have expected us to take their word for something this unbelievable! YOU should have been the one to bring us the information; then there would have been less doubt, less confusion as to the facts! You had a DUTY to bring that back! That was your mission! Not to lay back and send two of your less-than-reliable men back with something you must have KNOWN we'd question the veracity of!" 

Garrison glared at Colonel Keefer and the others. He fairly spit out his next words.

"After all we went through to get that information in the first place, get it back to you! Just how long were you planning on sitting on it??! If it hadn't been of 'vital importance, time is of the essence' I would have waited, the whole team would have, and brought it out with me on the second exit. But I didn't! I sent it back with two of my men, putting the rest of us in danger trying to hold off any discovery, any pursuit, so you could get it the quickest way possible!

"My DUTY, gentlemen, was two fold!! To get the information back to HQ as quickly as possible, AND to get my men back safely. I DID that, only to find that my men were treated as if they had done something wrong, instead of fulfilling the important task I'd given them, AND as if the information we almost died to get and transmit back here was worthless! Any disrespect being shown here, SIRS, is not on MY part!" 

Things went swiftly downhill after that. While Garrison HAD been able to convince them of the veracity of the information so painfully won, feelings were still running hot and heavy, and there was relief on both sides of that table when they called it quits and each side left to make the best of the situation. Relief, and a lot more negative emotions as well, but relief was certainly ranged in there somewhere.

A reluctant agreement to release Casino and Goniff from custody, though by no means issuing an apology was all Garrison had in the way of satisfaction. Well, that and Keefer's agreement to turn that so-important information over to the right authorities for action without further delay.

Garrison gave a parting salute so brisk and cold and professional, with just a touch of a pause and a slight upward jerking tilt at the outward snap, Colonel Keefer could almost see the words being expressed along with it, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Although those unspoken words certainly were deserving of a hard setdown, since they were only hovering in the air somewhere between the salute and those green eyes that looked daggers at them, neither Colonel Keefer or his two compatriots could voice any such reprimand however. 

Still, there was no doubt in anyone's mind about what each of the other was thinking. On the officers' part, there was the "arrogant, insolent young whippersnapper and his unprofessional attitude and his mistaken loyalties to that crew of his!", and that quick piercing backwards glance, accompanied by that slight upward twitch of one eyebrow, by Garrison at the doorway, almost as if he'd heard that silent conversation, well, that was a final, if still unspoken, "and #*$*# YOU TOO!!!" that all three senior officers heard loud and clear. 

The sound of that door closing echoed in a silent room, right before the three senior officers burst into an indignant discussion about the situation, the Lieutenant, and the awkward place holding onto that vital information had left them in. A quick huddle had them agreeing that, yes, it really HAD been Garrison's fault for the way he'd handled the whole matter, and they'd certainly done nothing any reasonably cautious senior officer wouldn't have done. Secure in their own tidy little fantasy bubble, they then got about the task of seeing that information was actually put to good use. 

Garrison met up with Alex Ainsley in the hall outside, along with Private Jeffrey Ames, Aide to Major Kevin Richards. Jeffrey had eased his mind about the guys, with a quick "they're being fetched, all four of them, Lieutenant, but it might take a little while and you are ALL better off out of this building, or that's what the Major says anyway. Where shall they meet you?" 

Garrison hesitated, head pounding so that he couldn't think straight enough to come up with a sensible answer, and Ainsley put in, "how about 'Silk's'? It's not far and not many of this crowd go there." 

And for good reason - in contrast to what the name might infer to the uninitiated, 'Silk's' (named for the proprietor, 'Silky' Ryan, who was reputed to be able to wield a leather cosh upside a man's head, 'just as smooth as silk') was a little on the edgy side. Oh, not quite rough enough to be closed down (or at least, not for more than a few days at a time), or thrown out of the neighborhood entirely, but still a place the mostly rough and tumble field agents didn't feel like they had to put on airs to fit in. The rest of HQ pretty much gave the place a wide berth out of concern for their sensibilities and their skin. 

Well, that was probably wise. Somehow, a few drinks of the less-than-quality liquor served there and inhibitions were lessened and tongues loosened, and a few desk jockeys and ineffectual wannabe field operatives had crawled back to the hallowed halls of HQ, slightly more humble, nursing their egos and their wounds. Yeah, those three senior officers wouldn't be headed for Silks, that's for sure.

His quick agreement, voiced as "Silk's it is. Ainsley, I NEED a drink to wash the taste of THEM out of my mouth!" came as he nodded his grateful thanks to Jeffrey. 

His shoulder was aching, right along with his head, though how much the latter was due to his collision with that dashboard and how much from his explosion of temper, he wasn't sure. Either way, a drink sounded damned good, at least now that he knew his guys were okay and didn't need him to come charging after them.

Jeffrey hastened off to make a quick stop by the desk of Joyce McClaine, who got on the phone to alert those who needed to know, and then headed back to his desk to divert any questions that might be coming the Major's way.

Alex Ainsley snorted, "yes, you probably do need a drink, Garrison, from what I heard through the door, and so do I. My treat; for you, of course, not them. Imagine those in that room need a stiff one or two as well, if my guess is correct, but it'll be the Officers' Club for them, to bemoan the lack of respect they get from Special Forces." 

And they departed, not sparing a word or a glance at anyone between them and the door. Luckily, one look at their determined stride, the sheer disgust on their faces prevented anyone from trying to slow them down.

And they were two drinks into discussing their mutual sorrows and frustrations when there was a commotion at the door and Garrison's four men surged in, in the company of Major Kevin Richards. 

Richards didn't stay; he didn't intend to intrude, but he also didn't want the men to come up against any new difficulties, of their own volition or anyone else's, before they could meet up with Garrison, and he didn't place much reliance on that happening without some intervention. Well, things just did seem to happen around these guys.

As far as Richards was concerned, it had been bad enough to get back from Stockholm to a tight-lipped and worried Private Ames waiting for him with all the lurid details. After a brief consultation with Coura, who had arrived to pick up the slightly battered Ciena who'd accompanied him on that trip northward, he'd sent Ames ahead to maybe calm Garrison down while HE went to retrieve the two sorry characters waiting in the brig. 

Coura, in the meantime, went to corral Actor and Chief, who had been stuck in debriefing and had come out to find their leader nowhere in sight. She was pulled aside just as she retrieved them, and gave a quick smile of satisfaction at what Joyce McClaine had told her. 

"Yes, that should work quite well. Thanks, Joyce."

The three of them arrived at the brig in time to meet Major Richards just as he was getting out of his car to take custody of the two prisoners. 

She waved her two charges forward, addressing Richards. "I won't go in; have to head back to Ciena. Besides, no sense anyone here connecting too many dots. Remember what I told you, Actor. And, Kevin, Ainsley is going to take Garrison to Silk's. If you can see the guys get there safely, it would be much appreciated, I'm sure. Then, the team, all of them, are to head to Odellinn for awhile. Phone lines are secure there, so he can check in with the Mansion; Rawlins can reach them in an emergency, but you won't have to worry about them for awhile." 

She issued what was uncomfortably like a snicker, "you know, I think the Lieutenant is channelling my older sister. A little more Dragon, a little less strict and stern, prim and proper officer. Who knows, we might even get you headed down that road sooner or later, Kevin! Do wonders with your social life, I'd bet; it's a very sexy look, you know, that mixture of fire and passion and iron-clad control!" 

He'd shuddered, and started to ask questions, then decided he was better off not. There was something about the look of satisfied amusement in her amber eyes that gave him his usual sense of foreboding, and frankly he'd already had enough excitement for the day. Actually, after that last mission, more than enough for the entire month!

And she gave him one last instruction, which got her a dark glare, which made her grin even more, and she was gone.

Richards, followed by Actor and Chief, went in to explain quite firmly to the Sergeant at Arms that, yes, he WAS retrieving the two prisoners, and yes, he DID know what he was doing, and was shown to the cell holding Garrison's two reprobates. 

He raised his hands at the battery of complaints, questions, anxious queries, demands, and everything else that was being thrown at him by an anxious and worried Goniff and Casino, not even trying to decipher all of it, much less answer anything more than the most essential. 

"Yes, they're back, they're safe. Your two team mates are waiting out front, and as for your fearless leader, I'm taking you to him; he's been busy either tearing a strip off the ones who put you here, or getting chewed out; probably both, if I know the parties involved. 

"Come along now. It seems you are bound first for Silk's to pick up Garrison, then for some place called 'Odellinn', wherever that might be; Coura didn't elaborate. She says the telephone is 'secure' there, so he can let Rawlins know where you are, and no, please do not enlighten me, about any of it; I really feel I am better off not knowing. 

"And as for the rest of her message, well, she will have to be disappointed there. I have NO intention of giving all of you a 'kiss from her'. Just accept it as a kind thought passed along, if you don't mind." 

All that was delivered as he motioned them out of the cell, down the hall to greet their two teammates, and out into the open air.

Casino hooted out loud when Goniff smiled earnestly at the Major, his blue eyes wide and purely shining with innocence, and nodding encouragingly, assured him, "now don't feel you 'ave to 'old yourself back on our account, Major. We can tolerate it if you can. 'Ate to disappoint Coura, you know. You KNOW 'ow she gets, or at least, that's the rumor! Why, I 'ear she's even worse than Meghada w'en she's on a tear! Though spect you'd know that better than us."

A sigh of combined frustration and aggravation, along with a hint of amusement was his only answer, though that HAD gotten a repressed snort of amusement from the others. Chief had given one of his rare half-smiles, and Actor had rolled his eyes, sympathizing with Richards; talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place!

Now they strode into Silk's like they owned the place, and hurried over to where Garrison and Ainsley were deep in conversation. Garrison's tension released with an audible sigh of relief at the sight of the team, together and intact, if unshaven and unbathed and probably unfed as well. 

He started to motion for more glasses when Goniff protested.

"Ei, Warden. Don't go guzzling any more of Ainsley's rotgut! We got us a decent bottle waiting for us! Come on now," Goniff coaxed, and the others voiced their own approval of that plan.

"Of course, you are welcome to join us, if you wish," Actor smoothly invited the other team leader, though he sincerely hoped Ainsley would decline. Otherwise, they'd have to make a stop at another bar, something more upscale until they parted ways, and only Garrison and Ainsley were in any condition for that. They surely couldn't take the other team leader with them where they were eventually headed. 

Richards wouldn't be a problem; he'd already indicated his intention to reverse course for HQ and left, to find out what landmines had been placed on his desk in his absence. 

Luckily Ainsley declined his invitation; he decided Garrison and his team needed the time together, and the two leaders had already had their own worthwhile, highly cathartic, if quite profane, discussion. HQ probably would not have been pleased at the epithets placed on their collective heads.

"No, I've got to get back to my own team. Where are you headed, back to Brandonshire?"

"Not right away; gotta stop or two ta make first," Casino offered, though not saying any more.

"Very well. Garrison, take care, and remember what I said," Ainsley said with a rueful smile. 

Garrison nodded in gratitude; Ainsley had kept him from sliding too far, and he'd been on the brink. And the words had been apt - "Remember, Craig, we are fighting the war to defeat Hitler and his crew, to protect what we believe in. We are NOT fighting it to gratify those gaping blowholes in HQ! Sometimes I think we are fighting it in SPITE of them!"

A quick handshake and he was gone, leaving Garrison and his team standing on the sidewalk outside.

"So, if we're not headed back to Brandonshire, just where are we headed?" Garrison asked, giving them a slightly suspicious look. Frankly, he wasn't sure he cared; just having them all in one place and all standing on their own two feet was something to be grateful for. AND not under arrest; that was always good. Still, it was expected of him to at least inquire.

Goniff declared knowingly, cocking one eyebrow in a way that usually promised trouble of one sort or another, especially when teamed with that little smirk. "Ei, Warden, 'ave I got a place for you!" 

And as they pulled in through the gated opening into the small property, Garrison recognized the small, discreet plate on the wall and an anticipatory smile came to his weary and overly-tense face. 

"Odellinn?" he asked. "I thought Meghada was still supposed to be out on assignment."

A disgusted sigh fraught with frustration came from their pickpocket.

"She is; maybe she can join us later if she gets back in time from w'erever the ruddy 'ell they sent 'er this time. Seems she's gone as much now she's NOT under contract as before! Coura gave us the word to come 'ere, through the Major, though I don't know 'e 'as any idea w'at it meant. Those ruddy bastards at HQ, word is they gave you a week to 'get us back in shape', and Coura figured you might get that done even better 'ere than back in Brandonshire, at least for part of that time, all of it if we like. Dolores and Renaldo know we're coming, will 'ave things all set up."

Garrison thought that sounded damned tempting, but he was pretty sure what HQ would think about them just dropping off the radar like that. He voiced his doubts rather reluctantly; after all, a few days in the expert care of Dolores and Renaldo, caretakers of the Clan property called Odellinn, sounded like a dream come true after what they'd all gone through.

Actor soothed his concerns. "She said you can check in with the Sergeant Major once we're inside; the phone is secure. So we aren't AWOL, just not so easy to reach for awhile, Craig. You are also given leave to invite Lynn, if you wish and if she is available, but that you are to leave it to Renaldo to get word to her if you do, AND to retrieve her. THIS line might be secure; who knows about any on the other end. 

"Richards was obviously curious, but didn't ask any questions, at least not of us, though he seemed understandably wary of anything coming from Coura, especially after her comments about your 'new look' and her hopes for him following suit. Yes, I'll explain that later, but it will require a drink in my hand AND in yours! I'm sure HE intends to have a drink, maybe two, in consideration! Still, he must know she would not be wanting to do us any harm, and he did stress that she sent her best wishes. I understand she also instructed him to 'give them a kiss from me,' though he declined to follow through."

Garrison snorted, "yes, that sounds like her, anything to get a rise out of him! They have the damnedest relationship! So, Odellinn." 

He remembered their last visit, and felt the residual tension start to relax as the car came to a stop. Looking around at their eager faces, he knew they needed this; even more, he admitted to himself that HE needed this too. 

Dolores put a quick dinner on the table, promising them better on the morrow. Well, she'd not been given much notice of their arrival, but she was as warmly welcoming as she had been before. These were guests of Clan O'Donnell, and as such, always welcome within these walls. 

It was an early night, just a shared drink after dinner, then Renaldo showing them to their quarters, promising to show up in the morning with fresh clothes for each of them. 

"I won't disturb you, will just leave things in a basket by the door. Breakfast will be when you ask for it. Ring for coffee if you want it brought up to you. I think you'll find everything you need; let me know if you don't."

Chief had the same room as before, the one that opened to the gardens below. 

Actor found three books on his nightstand, obviously carefully chosen, and a pipe and tin of his favorite tobacco along side, and a decanter of brandy on the desk. 

Casino even found a trio of 'specialty mags' laid out on his pillow like, as he told Goniff later, 'a piece of candy like they do in those fancy joints Actor raves so much about'. Getting a look at what was in those magazines, he figured he could do without the candy, though he wondered if that little restaurant was still in business, and if that blonde waitress was still working there. The centerfold in one of those magazines sure reminded him of her, one hell of a tempting armful.

And as for Garrison and Goniff? Well, the big double room at the back of the house, the one with an attached sitting room and bath had been allocated to Garrison, with Goniff being directed to the smaller room along side. Renaldo had blandly noted, "that door connects, of course, but is easily locked or unlocked from either side. Keys are there on the knob. If Meghada does get here, I'll direct her up."

Casino lost himself in the glass of whiskey he'd poured from the decanter on the desk, along with the first of those magazines. Only dames in any of the three, and pretty mild compared to what he was used to, but hey, he wasn't complaining. These'd tide him over til he got round to the shops, picked up a few things a little more adventurous.

Actor found the brandy decanter alluring, along with a pipe and the tome describing lost art treasures, chuckling as he personally recalled how at least ONE of those treasures came to be lost. As he recalled, his mistress at that time had looked utterly ravishing in that necklace, it being her only adornment at the time. 

Chief sat on the floor of his balcony, leaning against the wall, inhaling the moist air from the garden below, going back inside only when he became too drowsy to stay awake. The French doors remained open, though, and he smiled in his sleep at the sound of the night birds.

And in the suite at the back of the house, the whiskey decanter had been broached, one shot glass each, and conversation ensued, at least for awhile.

Blue eyes watched appreciatively as Craig Garrison sat his glass aside and proceeded to get comfortable. A few quick movements took care of most of his uniform. Finally he stretched and undid his shirt collar and cuffs, then dispensed with the entire garment. 

"From w'at Richards was saying, you lit a ruddy fire under some of the desks at HQ," Goniff declared from his sprawled position against the headboard of the bed, glass in hand. Unlike Garrison, he hadn't bothered to get dressed again after that very welcome shower, just kept the damp towel slung around his waist, and his hair was still damp and was only beginning to regain its flaxen color. Well, he wasn't the one who'd had to go back downstairs and make that phone call to Gil Rawlins, after all, the Sergeant Major not being available the first time Garrison had called.

Bending down to pick the rest of his clothes up off the floor and deposit them on a nearby chair, Garrison offered a terse reply.

"Not that it's likely to have done any good! If they'd just get their heads . . ." he stopped, hearing a sound, turning to look at the Englishman, and then laughed at the chuckle and appreciative grin coming his way, though whether those was aimed at his words or at what Goniff insisted on calling, thankfully in private, 'the best curve on a male arse I ever 'AVE seen!', he didn't know.

"Now, that's w'at I mean, Craig. Getting more like Micah Davis all the time, you are. Next thing you're gonna be telling those blokes to 'go get scrunched by a wombat' or something like that. Woulda liked to 'ave seen it though. Like Actor was saying Coura told the major 'all fire and passion and iron-clad control'. And I 'ave to agree, it's a right good look for you, though not w'at I'd call real subtle," Goniff said, sliding over so he wasn't taking up the entire middle of the bed the way he had been. His glass had been deposited on the side table during the process, and his towel was now nowhere to be seen.

Garrison noted his pickpocket was taking his time in shifting positions before settling on his side facing Garrison, head supported by one hand.

"Yes, well, I wouldn't call THAT real subtle either," he observed, watching every lithe movement attentively. He wasn't expecting any remorse, nor did he get any, just an unrepentent, very welcoming smirk.

"Well, you know w'at 'Gaida always says, about 'subtle' not always getting the message across."

"Uh huh. And about this message . . . " Garrison said, a slow smile answering that arch and challenging look in Goniff's blue eyes, his own green eyes becoming a little heavy-lidded and sultry in the doing. 

{"Like I'm the only one that description could apply to! And it's just as good a look on him, though not one we get to see very often! Of course, there's his 'full of mischief' look, too, and his 'who? ME?' look, and oh, yeah, that one he's wearing now - I really like that one too. Yes, a few days at Odellinn is JUST what we all need!"}

Meghada arrived on the third morning, though in the wee hours. Goniff had roused a little after dawn to the faint sounds of movement next door in the room allocated to him, and slid from under the covers carefully, not to wake his sleeping companion. He snagged a shirt, Garrison's actually, on the way over, just in case it WASN'T the redhead he was hoping it was.

Gently opening the door, he peeked his head in and whispered softly, "Gaida?"

"Aye, laddie," she responded, in an equally low voice, a weary smile coming to her face at the sound of his welcome voice. She turned from the dressing table where she was brushing her long wet hair back before securing it in an over-the-shoulder braid.

He slid into the room, and perched on the side of the rumpled bed, looking at it with a disapproving frown. 

"You stayed in 'ere? Could 'ave joined us."

"Yes, I know; I know you wouldn't have minded. But I peeked in, and you were both sleeping like babes. That's not so easy for Craig, and I didn't want to wake him. Sides, I didn't get in til around 4, so I just dozed. You know I can never really sleep when I first get back, especially after the debriefing I went through. Was back up within an hour or so, fetched water and had a good wash-up, including getting the sticky out of my hair. Sea water does such a number on it!"

He gave her a sly smile. "Bet I can 'elp you get off to a sound sleep right quick! Well, maybe not quick, that wouldn't be any good, but sound anyway, eventually. Then you can sleep for a few 'ours, and be good as new by the time evening comes round."

Meghada nodded in appreciation, "and I'm sure you could, well enough, but I've been gone so long, I'm thinking I really should get some breakfast, then catch up on the news and take care of a few things . . ."

She stopped talking since he obviously wasn't listening, and besides, his lips were now covering hers, and none of what she'd been thinking was so important seemed all that important after all.

In the next room, Craig Garrison slowly came awake, taking note that he was now alone in the bed. Blinking, looking around, he heard the murmurs from the room next door, then that low laugh followed by familiar voices and equally familiar sounds and smiled sleepily. 

{"Looks like Meghada got home."}. 

Lynn was due to arrive later that day, meaning the whole family would be here, safe, together. {"The hell with the ducks, AND that damned goose!"}. Turning over on his side, he slid back into a deep, peaceful and contented sleep.


End file.
